


Dream of December

by TheNewCancer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Orphanage, Awkward Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Smut, My First Destiel Fanfic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-02-25 19:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2633762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNewCancer/pseuds/TheNewCancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a first year student at Stanford. He's quieter than most, but immediately makes friends with his roommate, Sam Winchester. The last name rings a bell, however, and soon he finds himself reunited with the smile he fell in love with, what seemed to him like ages ago. But Cas refuses to fall again, because he remembers what heartache felt like. And he would do anything not to feel it again.</p><p>NOT a Samstiel fic. Strictly Destiel. Because even I can't resist those puffballs together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When I'm Gone, Will You Remember?

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story. I hope this one turns out well. I've written on fanfiction.net for a while, and I just recently decided to join archive. I had been trying to think of a story worthy of this site, because it seems like a much more prestigious fanfic library. Like fanfiction is a sun dress and archive is a ball gown. That was a bad analogy... I'll have to think of another one later. But for now, I give you the first chapter of Dream of December.

 

 

  
And when I'm gone, will you remember?  
Will you disregard the things I said?  
Or will you dream of that December,  
The one that I can never forget?

* * *

 

 

I remember when I first saw him. He had red hair then, or maybe it was just the light shed by the browning leaves and the cloudy skies. It was late autumn.

The orphanage was a tall brick building with three floors, and was falling apart. It was stacked on top of itself like jenga blocks, and was just as unstable. But it was home. The backyard was the dingiest part, what with its patchy grass, rusty fence, and dusty swing set. But I loved every bit of it, I had never known anything better.

I was swinging on this dusty swing set that day. My brother Gabriel was pushing me, I was only nine. Gabe was twelve. Even though we weren't actually related, we were all brothers to each other. Gabe was the first one I talked to, and he'd always been my best friend. He would always push me on the swing set, and whenever the other boys were mean he would be the first at my side.

That day Gabe seemed down about something. I was quiet, too shy to say anything. He pushed me, but all I could do was silently play with the dandelion I had found in the corner of the yard. I had been working up the nerve to ask him about it ever since he woke me up that morning without his usual smile, but only then did I feel confident enough to do it.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, plucking a petal off my dandelion. The creaking of the swingset almost covered my words, but not quite.

Gabe was silent for a bit. "I'm okay. Sort of."

"What's wrong?" I asked him, looking back. He shook his head and gave a small, sad smile. "I don't wanna bother you with it."

And that was it, all I asked. Gabe went inside, but I didn't follow him. I stayed on the swing, picking at my dandelion. Hoping he would be okay, but too scared to do anything about it. And then it happened.

"Oi."

I looked towards the door at the sound of a voice, but no one was there. I disregarded it, and looked back down at my dandelion.

"Hey, you. Curly-top." And I looked to my left, and there he was.

A boy with hair the same color as the leaves on the ground, wearing an over-sized brown leather jacket with sleeves down to his waist and the waist around his ankles. And he had the biggest, greenest eyes I'd ever seen. He had freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and nose, but the rosy blush from the cold made them a bit hard to see. He had tangled his fingers in the square openings in the fence, and was staring right at me. With those big, green emerald eyes.

I didn't respond to him. I just stared. He waited, for a response most likely, but then he smiled. "Do you not talk much?" He asked. I blinked, without replying.

He pointed behind me. "My dad told me that there's an orphanage right there. Are you an orphan?" He asked. I nodded slowly. He looked me up and down. "I always thought orphans were bald. And that they wore like rags or something." He said. I shook my head.

"No." I said softly. He smiled again, a bit wider this time. "So you can talk. What's your name?"

"Castiel."

"That's a weird name. Usually names like that are family names."

"I don't know my family." I said, unblinking. I tried not to show it on my face, but the words stung like bees.

"I'm Dean." He said, crossing his ankles. I nodded. "Do you have a last name?"

"Winchester." He replied. "Do you?"

"No." I couldn't help the way my eyes darkened when I said it.

"Oh." He stared at me with a bit of pity, but I didn't mind. I was used to it.

I played with my dandelion, and he was so silent for so long that I thought he had left. But then he spoke again, which startled me a little.

"I like you. You're cute." He said with a small laugh. I blushed, and looked down. I didn't say anything. I didn't know what he meant at the time, but it still filled my stomach with butterflies.

"I want you to be my friend. You'll be my friend, right?" He said. I looked up again, and he was smiling the most beautiful smile I've ever seen, even to this day. I never thought it was possible to fall in love with a smile, but I did. I didn't fall in love with him necessarily, but his smile was mesmerizing. The way his rosy cheeks spread to show his teeth, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. But most of all, the way they lit up when I finally looked back up at him. How they shimmered when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

And I said yes.


	2. Snowflakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to artkirk for being the first commenter! Your comment made me really happy, thanks a bunches ^^ Also thanks to all who left kudos!  
> Anyhoo, I forgot to mention that this story will bounce back and forth between the present and the past. So enjoy.

I find memories like snowflakes,  
Fluttering into my clutch  
Tried using a memory as an escape,  
But it melted at the touch

* * *

"You've got all your bags?"

"All nine."

"And your phone and your laptop?"

"I'm literally holding them right here in my lap."

"Wallet? And you remembered to bring a coat, right? It may be California, but it gets cold over here."

"Gabe," I gave my big brother a sincere look from my spot on my new bed, and he sighed.

"Sorry." He smiled a bit sheepishly, and shook his head. "I just... this is..."

"I know." I smiled at him.

"It's weird, you know?" He ruffled his hair and laughed, but I could still see the sadness in his eyes.

I nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"My brother's going to Stanford."

"Mhm. I am."

"First of the group to make it to college, congrats."

"Michael went to Elon, remember?"

"Yeah, but we don't count him." Gabe smiled and stared at me for a bit. I tried to stare back, but couldn't help my nervous chuckle. "What?"

"Get your ass up so I can hug you, nerd." He said, walking over to me and holding his arms out. With a sigh of relief, I stood quickly and fit myself nicely into his chest, my chin just barely reaching his shoulder. I was so nervous, I had been anxiously waiting for a hug all day. Gabe's arms always felt so warm, they felt like home. And I was gonna need as much home as I could get while I still could, enough to last the year I planned to spend in this place.

"You'll be okay, right?" He asked into my neck, holding me like he never wanted to let go. I didn't want him to either, honestly. But I nodded.

"I think so, yeah." I lied. Honestly, I had no idea if I would be okay or not. But I had already caused my brother enough worry in my life, and I didn't want to cause any more.

"Am I interrupting something?" A voice came from the door. I opened my eyes to see a tall stranger, toting three suitcases and a pair of headphones. Gabe turned, and stared. I don't blame him, he was a very tall stranger.

He had shaggy brown hair that hung over his forehead and ears, and thin grey eyes peeking out from above a pair of flawless cheekbones. He wore a grey hoodie, unzipped to show a blue t-shirt paired with cargo pants and red converse. A pair of grey and green headphones hung around his neck, with a green wire trailing into his pocket, where it was probably plugged into some music playing device. He was attractive, I'll admit, but in a strange, non-typical way.

"No, don't worry." Gabe laughed, releasing me from his hug and sliding his hands in his pockets. The guy looked between the two of us. "So... which one of you is Castiel?"

"That's me," I said, raising my hand halfway as Gabe pointed. The guy smiled and walked up to me, holding his hand out, leaving his bags abandoned in the doorway. "I'm Sam. Nice to meet you." He said, wrapping his large, rough palm around my slim, pale fingers. I shook it timidly, a bit intimidated by his size and firm grip, but I managed a half-smile, for the sake of my brother's peace of mind. "Nice to meet you too," I nodded curtly.

"Well, I'd better get going, then." Gabe smiled at both of us, and started for the door. But before he passed Sam, he placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a serious look. "Take care of my brother." He said quietly, and Sam nodded slowly, a bit confused. I lowered my head and slowly recrossed my arms sheepishly. The thing Gabe was most afraid of with letting me go was not being able to protect me. I mean, I don't blame him. Zach and Raphael and the others would always make fun of me back home. If it weren't for Gabe, I might not have made it to where I was then. But it was still immensely embarrassing.

"That's you brother?" Sam asked me after Gabe had exited around his stuff, snapping me out of memories of my childhood. I swallowed and nodded quickly. "Y-yeah, sorry... he's a bit... over protective. I mean, overbearing." I sighed. "I mean, umm, it's just hard for him to send me off like this." I kept adding on sentences to clarify the meaning of the ones prior, but I still sounded stupid despite my efforts. Sam just laughed and went to retrieve his bags from the doorway. "I know what that's like."

"Wait, you do?" I looked up at him, raising my eyebrows over my large round glasses.

"Yup. My brother didn't even want to let me out of the car. If I didn't hop out the second he pulled up, I think he would've tied me to the seat." Sam said, throwing his bags on the empty bed beside mine.

I laughed and nodded. "Yeah, Gabe's like that. The only reason he's letting me go is because I'm only the second of the family to make it to college."

"Really? Weird, I'm the first." He laughed and unzipped the smallest of his bags. "What's your family like?"

"Umm..." I thought for a bit, searching for an answer that wouldn't open any doors to my troubled personal life. "Big."

"How big?"

"Uhh... fifteen brothers and sisters big?" I chose the wrong answer.

"Whoa." Sam laughed, looking up from his unpacking and to me. I nodded. "Yeah. Umm..." I stared at his bag for a bit, trying to think of a new topic. "Are those your only bags?" I asked as he shoved a pile of neatly folded clothes into a drawer.

"Yeah. Why?" He pulled another pile out of his bag, and I blushed a bit. "Umm, because I think I may have over-packed..."

He looked at my pile of empty bags and cracked a smile. "Just a bit. Usually people bring like six bags."

"You only have three."

"I didn't really have much at home that I wanted to bring with me." He said. I nodded. "Ah." The room fell awkwardly silent as he continued filling his drawers and emptying his suitcases. I fiddled with my phone to avoid it, but Sam didn't seemed to be bothered much.

"Well, I think there's a club fair going on in the courtyard." Sam said once he was done unpacking. "I'm gonna go check it out. Wanna come with?" He asked. I shook my head and smiled.

"No, I already took a walk around." I said. He nodded, and started for the door. "Catch you later, then." He pulled the door closed behind him.

"Later..." I snuck the word out right before the door shut, but I didn't think he heard it.

I sighed and flopped back on to my bed. It was only three. I still had all day to do something.

I let my head fall to the side, and found myself facing my almost empty bookshelf. I had only brought one book with me. Lord of the Flies, by William Golding. It's been my favorite ever since Lucifer (the second oldest at the orphanage) found it in Michael's (the oldest) book collection and read it to me as an attempt to scare me out of my eight-year-old pants. Michael gave it to me after I confessed how much I like it, and I read it nonstop for the next year. Michael read a lot, he always had a book under his arm. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't love reading as much as I do.

But for college, I told myself that I wouldn't get caught up in books I'd already read, like I always ended up doing.

"Actually, now that I think about it..." I had been planning to grab four or five books from the bookstore. I pushed myself off the bed with newfound motivation, and stuffed my feet into a pair of converse on my way out the door.

* * *

 

I was browsing the American Classics section of the campus library when I felt a pair of eyes on me. I turned slightly, disguising my discreet side glance as a small hair flip, shooing my curly bangs out of the way.

Bright red hair, very pale. Female. I didn't get much on her appearance, since it was such a short glance, but she was wearing something white with a pair of blue jeans. I ignored her and continued to flip through the dusty old volume of Gone With The Wind.

After a couple minutes, I felt confident enough that she had left to turn full around, but then she was right in my face.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I love your shirt." She said with a smile as I had a minor heart attack. I swallowed and glanced down at my chest, as I had forgotten what I had put on that morning. It was a light blue Harry Potter tee, but it was nothing special. She must have been a fan.

"Thanks..." I smiled shyly, and she smiled confidently. "I'm a huge Potterhead. Do you prefer the books or the movies?"

"The books...? I haven't seen the movies."

"You would be one of few,my friend. You should watch them. They're good, but nowhere near as good as the books. J.K Rowling is a god."

"She really is..." I lied with a small chuckle. I mean, don't get me wrong, J.K Rowling is a great writer. I like her plot, but her writing style is nothing special... her words are laced with a British accent. It's fun to read, but I always preferred authors with edgier, more distinct styles.

"I'm Charlie." She held out a hand, and I shook it gingerly. "Castiel."

"You seem like the quiet type. The approachee." She said, as if it was a totally normal thing to say.

"What?" I replied, like it sounded insane. Because it did.

"Well you look like the sort of person I'd want to be friends with, but you don't seem like the kind of person to make friends with me. You're not likely to approach me, so I'm approaching you."

"You know, there's also a possibility that I wouldn't want to be friends with you." I said, although I knew that making friends had never really been my strong suit. It wouldn't have been a bad idea to accept while I still could.

"I'm not giving you a choice, silly." She said, laughing and hooking her arm in mine.


	3. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapters will be shorter than regular chapters. Just so you don't think I'm cheating or anything... because I'm totally not. If that's what you're thinking. Psh.
> 
> Also I've noticed that the characters feel a bit OOC. I'd like to clarify, for the sake of avoiding criticism, that all the characters are how I would depict younger versions of themselves. Like Cas was shy and quiet when he was younger but grew out of quiet and shy as he aged. Even though some characters (coughdeancoughlucifercough) never change.

 

 

 

 

Sweet dreams come softly to me  
Every one starting just as an ember  
As my mind wanders blindly to sweet fantasy  
And I wake, but I just can't remember

* * *

When I went back inside, everyone was gathered around the dinner table, as Miss Mary set out a steaming course of chicken pot pie. My mouth began to water, Miss Mary's pot pies were always unnaturally delicious. Though I was small, I could stuff myself with her cooking until I was too heavy for my chair.

"Ah, Castiel." Miss Mary smiled at me, pulling her dainty fingers out of her white and purple oven mitts, and began I untie her apron. Miss Mary was always a beautiful woman, and endlessly kind. She was thin and pale, with dark brown curls that framed her jaw and brought out the blue in her eyes. But despite her looks, she was too busy with us to ever find a boyfriend. It's a shame, she would have made a lovely wife.

"This smells sooooo good..." I saw Gabe eyeing the pot pie hungrily from the other end of the table. I quickly shuffled to the empty seat next to him, beside Anna. Anna was the youngest of all of us, at four years old. She liked to curl up in either Gabe or Balthazaar's arms when she slept, and refused to sleep any other way. She was one of three girls at the orphanage, so I felt a bit bad for her. But she was always happy.

"Yo Cas," Lucifer called from the other end of the table. I looked up at him over my glasses, unblinking. Gabe tensed up, probably expecting an insult of some sort. Lucifer always did things like that, he was the hell raiser. But he was still usually nice to me. Gabe never liked him.

"Chill out, babe." Lucifer raised a hand to Gabe and leaned back in his chair. "I just wanna know who four-eyes was talkin' to out in the backyard."

"Probably another dandelion." Zach snorted. Raphael giggled with him.

"Can it, Crackers," Lucifer silenced them before Gabe could. "It was a kid. He looked your age. Who was he?"

"I don't know." I lied. For whatever reason, I felt like I shouldn't tell him.

"Come on, Cas." Lucifer kicked his feet up on the table, but Miss Mary whacked his dirty sneakers with a dishrag. "Not in my house, bud." She said. Lucifer grumbled and lifted his feet off and under the table again grudgingly.

"And stop pestering your brother. If he doesn't want to tell you he doesn't have to." She added Lucifer stuck his tongue out at her as she turned her back to begin serving the pot pie.

After everyone had finished stuffing their faces and I myself had inhaled a generous portion of pot pie, it was bed time. I slept in a room with Gabe, Balthazaar, and Samandriel. Two bunk beds, and a small dresser below a window in between.

I took the top bunk on the right of the room, and Gabe took the bottom. Samandrial slept across from me on the top, and Balthazaar below him. We had all gotten changed into pajamas and were about to turn off the light when a knock came from the door and Michael entered.

"Come on, Mike, you know you give the little ones nightmares if you come in before they go to bed." Gabe joked, but Michael ignored him and went straight to the ladder on the end of the bed, climbing it and hanging himself over the rail.

"Have you finished Huckleberry Finn yet?" He asked me, his blue eyes peering straight to mine through his rectangular glasses. I nodded. "I liked it, but it was sorta boring at parts."

"I thought you'd say so." Michael pulled another book out of his back pocket, a small purple paperback. "The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald." He said, holding it out to me.

"What's it about?" I asked, though I knew I would read it whether it was an interesting summary or not.

"It's about a millionaire in Long Island." He said. His synopsis's were always rather dull, and irritably frank. But his taste in literature never disappointed me.

I reached down over the rail to snatch the old volume of Huckleberry Finn off the dresser, hanging almost three fourths of the way out of the bed. Sitting back up, I traded it for the new one, and Michael hopped back off the ladder and exited the room.

"Nerd!" Gabe called after him with a smile. "Peasant." Michael responded from the hall. Samandriel kneeled in his bed and craned his neck in an attempt to see the book I was holding. "I wish I could read those books too..." He said in awe, his big blue-green eyes sparking with curiosity. I would be happy to lend some to him, but he was only six and could barely read picture books. Michael also said that he didn't want him to slobber all over his precious literature.

"The books Cas reads would scar you for life, Sammy." Gabe said. Samandriel pouted.

"Huckleberry Finn probably wouldn't." I said with a small smile. Maybe one day I would read it to him.

"What's a 'Huckleberry Finn?'" Samandriel asked cluelessly, blinking and tilting his head a little. Gabe snorted. "Precisely." He said. I giggled.

Bathazaar groaned. "Can you just shut up already?" His British accent made him sound even more tired and irritable. No one knew where it came from, but nobody bothered to ask about it. Though I still don't know exactly what a twelve year old British kid would be doing in South Dakota.

"Yes, children, we wouldn't want him to cut our bloody heads off." Gabe mocked him in a sloppy accent, but Balthazaar just ignored him and slammed a pillow over his ear.

I smiled and dropped my book on the dresser. It landed neatly atop one of Gabe's comic books, and just narrowly missed the arm reaching from his bunk to the lamp sitting beside the pile. Gabe yanked the string.

"Goodnight," Samandriel said from his bed as I nestled myself into my bundle of covers.

"Goodnight."


	4. Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had trouble writing this chapter. I feel like halfway through I lost the ability to write quality fanfiction and it just fizzled at the end. Sorry for the lack of consistency. I made a coupe references to lines in the actual series as well, see if you can spot them~ ^^

 

 

 

I never thought I could fall in love with a smile  
But look here now, look here just once again  
I haven't seen it in a while.

* * *

 "Literature major, eh?" Charlie blew gingerly on her coffee, the exact flavor of which I could not possibly repeat, as it had consisted of four adjectives, three pumps of something-or-others, and a Spanish word that meant big. All I knew was that it started out as a mocha.

I nodded and nibbled on my cheese danish. "Mhm." I managed through a mouthful. She smiled. "I'm a creative writing major. Maybe we'll have some classes together."

"Maybe." I said, though I doubted it. She seemed like the type to sleep in, so she probably had all the later classes. I had signed up for early classes so I could relax for most of the day.

"So I'm guessing you like to read?" She asked, taking a tentative sip of her steaming cup. I nodded. "Yeah."

"What's your favorite book?"

"Lord of the Flies, by William Golding."

"Ooo, nice choice. A bit morbid, though." She said. I nodded again. "I like the way it's written and how Golding develops the conflict."

"So you're an analyzer." She said. I narrowed my eyes questioningly. "An analyzer?"

"There are three types of book readers." She explained. "Enjoyers, analyzers, and obsessors."

"Oh really?" This girl was starting to amuse me. "Care to elaborate?"

"Enjoyers read a book, and when they're done, they say, 'gee, that was a good book. I really liked it.' And then they move on to the next one. Analyzers finish a book and say, 'well I liked this part, but I didn't like this part. I like how the author did this and this, but when they did that and that, it got on my nerves,' and things like that. But when obsessors finish a book, they say, 'that was the most amazing book I've ever read in my entire life. I'm going to write a fanfiction about it, and I'm going to create a Tumblr blog about it, and I'm going to force it down the throats of every single person I know.'" She elaborated for me. I allowed myself a small chuckle and took another bite of my danish.

"Which one are you?" I asked, though I already sort of predicted the answer.

"Depending on the book I'm usually an obsessor." She laughed. "But I enjoy thinking like an analyzer. It makes me feel smart." She said. I couldn't help my smile. I decided that I liked this girl, and I wanted to be her friend.

"You seem pretty smart to me. You are going to Stanford." I said. She shrugged. "Eh. My best friend is an Asian. In comparison, I have the IQ of a box of crayons."

"Not all Asians are smart, you know," I pointed out. She snorted. "Have you ever met a dumb Asian before?"

I thought about it. "Point taken."

Charlie and I talked for a while, until about four. I wandered back to the boys dorms (and may or may not have gotten lost in the process) and arrived back at my new room.

I noticed that the door had two names listed on it. Mine and Sam's. Naturally, mine was just listed as "Castiel." But it listed Sam's full name.

"Winchester." I mumbled his last name. Why did that sound so familiar? It struck a chord, an important chord, but I couldn't remember why it felt so... significant.

I opened the door with my key, and Sam was lying on the bed, his considerably large body sprawled out so his extremities hung over the sides of the mattress. I turned to head for my side of the room, when my eyes fell on a man in ripped jeans and a leather jacket crouching over what looked like a TV set.

"Hey, you're back," Sam sat up with a smile. I nodded, but didn't take my eyes off the strange man. I couldn't see his face, and he didn't give me a single glance.

"This is my brother, Dean." Sam said, as the man finally looked up at me. My face went pale and my mind immediately started putting the pieces together. Dean. I know that name. And if he's Sam's brother, that means they have the same last name. Sam's last name is Winchester. Dean. Winchester.

Dean Winchester.

_Holy shit._

"U-umm... hi..." I was so dazed I couldn't even manage to see straight. It was a coincidence. This couldn't be _the_ Dean Winchester. Dean was a common first name. Winchester was a common last name. There had to be thousands of Dean Winchesters. What were the odds that this one was... oh god.

He had the eyes.

When my vision finally focused, I locked dead on to his eyes. Those green, emerald eyes that could only belong to him.

"No way..." I mumbled, and I couldn't help but stare. I forgot entirely about Sam and suddenly Dean Winchester became my world. He stood in front of me, narrowing his eyes in confusion, but I couldn't stop staring. Then Dean laughed.

"Well." He said. "The last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid." He said. And then he smiled. And my face got hot, and my mind blew away in frantic, frenzied spirals. My knees got weak, my hands started trembling. I needed to get out of there, before I fainted entirely.

"Uhhgottagobye!" I said quickly, pivoting on my heel and speed walking out of the room. Thoughts skittered across my mind a million miles per minute. I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going, and when I had finally regained control of my body, I was standing in front of the door to Charlie's dorm. And then I felt compelled to bang my head against it. She had told me where her dorm was, but this was too much too soon. I cried out in frustration.

Charlie opened the door a couple seconds later, and stared. "What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, but she phrased it with more confusion than 'get out of my sight before I call the police.'

"IknowIjustmetyoutodaybutIhaveanissueandIcan'tgobacktomydormbecauseofit." I said all in one breath. She blinked. "Umm... okay. Chill here for a while?" She said, stepping back to invite me in. I nodded and shuffled inside, head down and cheeks flushed. This was bad. I couldn't go back to my dorm until visiting hours were over, and Charlie was the closest thing to friend that I had so far. But I had only just met her that day, and that wasn't nearly enough friendship for a favor like this.

"So... what's the issue?" Charlie asked, plopping down on her bed. I stood awkwardly, not feeling comfortable enough to sit down. I examined her side of the room. It was covered in posters and action figures and comic books and references of all kinds, none of which I actually understood.

"Umm... it's complicated." I started. "When I was little there was this person that I really really liked but now for some reason that person is in my dorm right now because apparently the person is the sibling of my roommate." I made sure it to use gender-specific pronouns so as not to raise any flags.

"Well." Charlie blinked. She thought, she tapped her chin. "Is it a guy?"

"Umm..."

"Dude I don't care if you're gay. I am too." She said. I blinked, slightly surprised but also slightly relieved. I didn't have to wait a year to finally get up the nerve tell her like I had with all my other friends. And I also didn't have to worry about her developing a crush on me. I'd had serious problems with that in the past.

"Yes. I like guys." I admitted. "But that's beside the point. The point is that the first guy I ever had a crush on ever is inside my dorm room, and is brothers with my roommate."

"Yes, that is a problem. Is this guy gay as well?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen the guy in nine years!" I said, clutching my head and groaning in more frustration. Charlie nodded. "Well, I wouldn't damn even my worst enemies to an issue like that, so sit your buns down and let me get you some chex mix." She said, patting her bed and standing. I nodded and sat, and took a closer look at the other side of the room. It was empty, with a couple of bags in the corner and a laptop sitting on the desk. Whoever Charlie's roommate was, I guessed she wasn't as... passionate about the things she liked.

"So who is it?" She asked, digging through a bag.

"You wouldn't know them." I said, flopping back on her bed and sighing. She stoo again, with a bag of chex mix in her hands. She tossed it to me. "Try me."

I managed to catch the bag without sitting up again. "Sam and Dean Winchester...?" I said, opening the bag. She gasped. "No way. No friggin way."

"You... know them?"

"Holy shit, man, we go way back." She laughed. I blinked. Did everybody have a history with the Winchesters?

"They like to move around." She said. "You like Dean?"

"I never said I liked Dean."

"Yes, but Sam is the only one who could've possibly made it into college." She said, stealing a handful of chex mix and stuffing it in her mouth. I couldn't believe that this girl already knew so much about my personal life. If I didn't like her so much, it would've have been a problem.

"Do you have any advice for me?" I asked, stealing a handful of the varied snack pieces, picking out all the pretzels, and stuffing the remaining pieces into my mouth.

"You know, usually the gay guy is supposed to be giving advice to the white girl." Charlie said with a small smile, stealing my discarded pretzels and eating them.

"Gay guys have relationship problems too, you know." I said, my hatred for gay stereotypes leaking out through my irritation. "We're not just here for fashion advice and sassy remarks."

"Yes, yes. Forgive my generalizing." She chuckled. "Do you think Dean recognized you?"

"I don't know... he made a joke... I think if Sam told him my name, then he might remember. I don't know, it was a long time ago." I said, crunching on a bagel chip. "What do I do when I go back there? Sam's obviously going to want to know what happened."

"Well, for starters, I suggest you not tell him you have a raging crush on his brother." Charlie advised. I scoffed. "No duh."

"Just say that you left something in the library."

"I sprinted out of there blushing madly after Dean saying, 'the last time somebody looked at me like that, I got laid.' And I plan to stay here for at least half an hour. That's not really a fitting excuse."

Charlie laughed. "Seriously? Ugh, that idiot. but use the library excuse. Deny anything having to do with your sudden exit. Here, I'll even give you a book to bring." She rolled off the bed and snatched a book off her bookshelf.

"What book is it?" I asked as she sat back up and plopped back down. She held a thick book, one that looked like it took a lot of commitment to get through.

"The Hobbit." She said, holding it out to me. I took it slowly, flipping to the back cover to read the summary. "What's it about?"

"A man with very hair feet who goes on an adventure." She said. I nodded. "Can I actually read it? I didn't find anything at the library today."

"Totes. I've literally read it over a hundred times." She said with a smile.

After waiting with Charlie, watching Netflix and stuffing our faces with various snack foods, I made my way back to my dorm at roughly six o'clock. Visiting hours lasted until eight, however, so I wasn't entirely safe. But I didn't want to be too much of a bother to Charlie, and I also didn't want to be gone for too long.

I took a deep breath as I stood in front of the door. I slowly took the doorknob into my hand, and turned it even slower. For the sake of appearances I actually opened the door at normal speed, but my heart was racing through the entire process.

"Oh. Hey." Sam was laying on his bed, which was where I'd left him. This was a bit concerning, but upon scanning the small dorm I saw that he was the only one there.

"Sorry for running off earlier. I, umm," I faked a smiled and held up the book Charlie gave me. "I forgot this at the library."

"Oh. Okay." He said. I noticed the laptop he had balanced on his knee as he returned to it. I closed the door behind my and walked over to my bed, sitting down on it and opening my book.

"My brother installed a TV for us." Sam said after a while, breaking the awkward silence between us. I looked up, and sure enough, a small flat-screen was mounted on the wall. I nodded. "Tell him I said thanks."

"He'll most likely say 'that'll be eighty bucks.'" Sam said. I raised an eyebrow without looking away from my book. "What, no 'you're welcome?'"

"No, he's not big on politeness. To him, douchebagery is like a religion." Sam said. I could see his smile out of the corner of my eye, and I couldn't help smiling with him. That meant that nothing was weird between us, despite what happened earlier.

I read until eight. By then I had gotten about two hundred pages in, and I was hooked. I had not yet found any major critiques, which was stunning considering that I had read so much of it.

"I'm gonna get some sleep." I said to Sam as I closed my book and took off my sweatshirt. Beneath that I was just wearing the Harry Potter shirt and sweatpants, so I was pretty much ready for bed. "You can keep the light on if you want."

"Nah, I should probably do the same." He shut his laptop and hopped up to start changing. I quickly laid down and rolled over, blushing a bit, to avoid any awkward staring. After a bit he turned out the lights, and then it was just me.

Me and my dreams.


	5. Gatsby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. I don't really write much unless I'm in school, and I didn't really process how long Thanksgiving break for me really was until I realized that I had gone a week without updating. Sorryyyyy
> 
> Also, I'm gonna stop with the little four-line poems here. They're getting annoying and pointless. 
> 
> And just so I don't get anyone bitching about this, I don't own The Great Gatsby. Obviously.
> 
> For whatever reason something in my history class smells like canollis (did I spell that right?). And a little bit of teen spirit. Heh. Smells like teen spirit. 
> 
> Anyhoo I hope you enjoy this chapter~~

In the morning I started reading. I didn't even get out of bed, I just read under the warm shelter of my blankets and the dull light of the lamp on the bedside table. Life went on beneath me, the others came in and out. Gabe brought me breakfast, Balthazaar practiced his guitar. Samandrial peeked over my shoulder a couple times. But the entire morning I spent with my nose in my book. It was about eleven thirty when Miss Mary came in and told me that if I insisted on reading, I could at least go outside and do it. She said it was a beautiful day and she didn't want me to waste it shut away in my room.

The other boys were in the back yard, and raising quite a ruckus, so I sat myself down on the steps on the front porch. This would be the last warm day before winter, though I didn't know at the time. It was warm enough where I was wearing short sleeves, but not quite warm enough for shorts. Sunlight just barely shimmered through thin layers of clouds, shedding the perfect amount of light on the pages of my book. I was so enveloped in the story that I didn't hear my name being called.

"Yo, Curly-top," A hand on my head snatched me from the world of Jay Gatsby and West Egg, Long Island. Looking up, it took me a bit to make out the face of the silhouette above me, as the sun had peered out behind the clouds and shone down from behind him. But then, as he smiled, I recognized him immediately.

"Dean." I matched the face with a name, and it felt so... _natural_ rolling of my tongue. Dean nodded. "So you do remember me." He said, sliding his hand back into the pocket of his over-sized leather jacket. I nodded, but didn't say anything. I just stared at his smile.

"Cassidy, right?"

"Castiel."

"Oh, yeah." Dean nodded, but he was still smiling. I had a feeling he was only pretending to forget my name, but I didn't ask about it. I looked back down at my book and continued reading, since I didn't know what to say and wanted to avoid staring, since it might've make things awkward.

"Whatcha got there, Castiel?" He tugged my book down by the top of the spine so it laid flat in my lap, and glanced down at the page. He was close now, close enough where his shadow spread over me and the faintest essence of what I imagined as rain reached my nose. Of course before then, I had never imagined rain to have a scent at all. But if it did, I imagined it would smell something like him.

"A book."

"Well of course it's a book, I can see that." He chuckled, pushing it back up again so he could see the cover.

"The Great Gatsby." I told him, even though he was probably staring right at the title. He nodded in acknowledgement, and for a second I thought that maybe he had read it before.

"Never heard of it." He said, shooting these hopes down as quickly as they'd arisen. He plopped down next to me and nudged my elbow with his. "Read it to me." He said. I blinked and stared at him.

"Read it?"

"To me. That's what I just said, isn't it?"

"But... I'm about a fourth of the way through it already. Do you want me to start from the beginning?"

"Nah, Just go from where you are now." He said. I swallowed and nodded slowly, turning back to the page I was on and scanning for where I had been when he'd interrupted me.

"Umm..." I cleared my throat. "The room, shadowed well with awnings, was dark and cool." I began, peeking up at him between sentences a bit anxiously. "Daisy and Jordan lay upon an enormous couch, like silver idols weighing down their own white dresses against the singing breeze of the fans..."

* * *

"Castiel, it's time for lunch..." Miss Mary's voice and the sound of the front door opening concluded my reading at the end of the seventh chapter. By now, Dean was laying back on the porch with his arms behind his head and his legs sprawled out over the steps. I turned to see that Miss Mary was staring at Dean with a peculiar look, so I quickly marked and shut my book to explain.

"Who's this?" She asked curiously. Dean opened one eye and looked up at her. "I'm Dean." He told her before I could. Miss Mary looked to me with the same look, obviously not getting the answer she wanted.

"He's a friend of mine. I met him yesterday." I told her, standing. She blinked a couple times, and then her usual kind smile returned. "Oh, I see." She held the door open for me as I walked through and turned back to look at Dean from behind Miss Mary's skirt. Dean stood up as well, dusting his leather coat off and holding his hand out to her.

"Nice to meetcha." He said with a grin. Miss Mary laughed and shook his hand, and I watched shyly as they did

"Well, Dean, would you like to join us for lunch? We're having grilled cheese." She offered, pushing the door open a bit more to invite him in. But Dean shook his head.

"A most generous offer, milady. But I'm afraid I have to decline." He said with a small bow. "My father should be expecting me back soon."

Miss Mary laughed again. "Oh, such a shame." She said, playing along with him. "I would have loved a polite young gentlemen like yourself to teach my boys a lesson or two. Next time, then?" She said, and Dean nodded and smiled, but this time it was directed at me. "Next time for sure." He said, and turned around to walk the pavement dividing our front yard in half, making a right once he reached the sidewalk lining the road.

I'll admit I was a bit saddened at this. I wanted to spend more time with him. But I shuffled inside with Miss Mary behind me and clutched my book to my chest through the sleeves of my sweater, letting the sound of his voice hang in my mind.

 _"Next time for sure."_ He had said. But when would 'next time' be? I could only hope it would be soon.


	6. When All Seems Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I was gone so long. I completely forgot about this over winter break and before I was experiencing severe writer's block. But I'm back and I have an okay chapter for you. Just FYI, the story will be really taking off in the next present-day chapter. Yes, I do actually have this planned out. I just don't know how I'm going to execute my plan. I'm sorry. I'm awful I know. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.

In the morning, I had classes. First was a course called "Literature in the Age of Digital Culture," which sounded interesting enough for me to force myself out of bed at eight to get there. Sam was sound asleep in his bed, snoring slightly, and I ended up staring at him for a minute or two. In a totally non-creepy way of course. I decided that he was considerably attractive, dressed myself quickly in a baggy blue Giants sweatshirt and jeans, and slid out of the room without waking him.

Once I arrived at the classroom my schedule had given me directions to, I saw that the room was fairly small, which was the opposite of what I was expecting. I had been anticipating a large lecture hall, but instead it was a cozy gray-carpeted room with white walls and half of the room slightly elevated about an inch or two above the other. Multi-colored beanbags and lap desks dotted the monochrome room with color, most with students in them, and gave off an atmosphere which I could only describe as creative. It made me a bit uncomfortable, actually. This was college? I had over prepared.

I scanned the somewhat-crowded room for a friendly looking group to sit with, or a lone beanbag where I could continue my high school habit of being a loner, but to my surprise, Charlie was frantically waving at me from a beanbag in the back corner of the room.

"Hey! Cas!" She beckoned, and with every eye in the room on me now that she had drawn all the attention there, I of course couldn't decline.

Charlie wore a baggy gray sweater with a chest pocket and a pair of tight-fitting skinny jeans with rips at the knees, and light blue converse. I had to give her props; if she was actually trying, she pulled off the 'lazy-yet-stylish nerd' look pretty well.

As I sat in the denim bean bag beside her, I noticed for the first time that there was another boy there. He was fair height, and obviously of Asian decent. He wore his hair long and shaggy, but not in an 'effortlessly-tousled' sort of way. More like, 'my-mom-hasn't-taken-me-to-get-a-haircut-in-a-month-but-I-shampoo-regularly-so-it's-still-soft.' He was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt and pale gray jeans, which might have actually at one point been blue, but were now faded and colorless.

"Kev, this is the guy I was telling you about." Charlie said as I set my books on the floor beside me. The boy looked me up and down and nodded. "Ah. So you're the one in a situation with the Winchesters?" He said with a small chuckle. The way he phrased his sentence made him come off as relaxed, cool, collected. But from how he held his shoulders, awkwardly propped into a shrugging position by his elbows behind him, gave him a nervous and unsure vibe.

"Uh, yeah. I guess." I said, continuously shifting in my beanbag until I had found myself comfortable enough to hold my hand out to him. "I'm Castiel."

"Kevin Tran." He took it, leaning forward to shake it. It was a bit awkward, however, since I had neglected to pull my hand out of my sleeve. So really, he was shaking a hand wrapped in the sleeve of a sweater.

"Nice to meet you..." I nodded with a shy smile as he pulled his hand away and sat back into his beanbag.

"Kevin's gonna be a doctor." Charlie said matter-of-factly. Kevin blew his dark, soft-looking bangs out of his thin brown eyes and scoffed. "Trying to be. You don't have to brag about it. It's not like I'm a doctor yet."

"Wait," I blinked and stared, a bit confused. "But if you're a medical student, why are you taking a course about literature in the age of digital culture?" I asked.

"Because she wanted to take a class with me." He jabbed a thumb in Charlie's direction and sank a bit further into his beanbag. Charlie smiled innocently.

"He had already filled his schedule with courses he needed to take, but they were all in the afternoon so I made him sign up for this class. Otherwise, I would never get to see him."

"Because Lord knows you wouldn't survive a day without your bestest Asian friend."

"Hey, with you here, I don't need to carry around a calculator."

"Funny. Asian stereotype jokes. I'm dying on the inside."

"I didn't even know you had a sense of humor."

As they bickered back in forth in friendly quarrel, I sighed and turned towards the front of the class. Checked my watch. Sighed again. Class started two minutes ago. And we still didn't have a teacher.

I pulled out the copy of The Hobbit Charlie gave me, and opened to where I had left off. Naturally, this earned an approving smirk from her, and she scooted her beanbag a bit closer to mine so she could lean over my shoulder.

"You like it so far?" She asked, and I could smell her slight essence of clean laundry and fresh wood, which was an essence I particularly liked. I nodded and slowly pulled my shoulder out from under her chin, since I could almost feel the smile she wore in her cheeks.

"I do..." I smiled a little, blushing slightly. "It's definitely caught my interest. I see now why it's so popular."

"Mhm, see? I have the whole Lord of the Rings series, too. I can lend them to you..." She trailed off, and Kevin opened a book of his own. His didn't have a slipcover, though, and I couldn't read the spine from the way he was holding it.

"Umm, yeah. That would be great. I need something to read, after all." I said with a kind smile and a slight tilt of my head. She blinked, and pulled her head slightly away so she could look at me, expressionless. I blushed a little, scared that I had done something weird. Or maybe I had bad breath? I was so scared of waking Sam this morning that I didn't want to turn on the sink, so I just settled for a piece of mint gum... what if it didn't work? Oh god, that would be embarrassing...

"U-umm, what's wr-wrong?" I mumbled, becoming a bit flustered. She kept staring. "Dear Lord, Kevin." She said, placing a hand on his knee without taking her eyes off me.

"What is it?" Kevin asked, monotonous, without looking up from his book.

"He's adorable." She gasped, and I blushed deeply.

"Wh-wh-what...? Adorable...!" I swallowed and looked down at my lap, which I suppose didn't help my case at all. Charlie laughed and shook Kevin's leg.

"Classic uke... it's like someone pulled him right out of a yaoi!" She continued, and Kevin snorted, giving me a short glance before his eyes returned to his book. "I can see it. He's even got a cute blush."

"U-umm, if you don't mind me asking, what's a, uh... y... y-yow-ee, was it?" I questioned timidly, and Charlie and Kevin exchanged knowing glances, and spoke together.

"Gay porn."

* * *

After a long day of classes, I arrived back at my door at three with aching feet and a killer headache. Sam was out, so I dropped my glasses on the desk beside the door, flopped on my bed and let out a long, loud sigh, one that I had been holding in all day.

I sank into my mattress on my stomach and closed my eyes as my red comforter obscured my view. Though classes had been filled with nothing but introductions and course summaries, I had been forced to walk all over campus to get to classes in obscure areas with confusing directions given to me my upperclassmen, and it had taken a lot out of me. I was so tired, my eyelids could barely hold themselves open. So I rolled over and let them close, and in my opinion, nothing felt better then closing heavy eyelids after a long day. Well, except maybe curling up under a warm blanket. Basically, anything that involved sleep.

It's weird, according to Gabe I don't really come off as a person who likes to sleep a lot. And I don't really know why, I mean, doesn't everyone? But I would always explain to him that while sleeping _is_ my favorite hobby (besides books of course), I'm just responsible enough to know when I need to wake up. A skill everyone needs, but very few people possess.

I was out almost instantly. Not fully asleep, however, instead I was drifting in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, my favorite place to be. It's a wonderful feeling, when you're so tired that you can't even find the strength to open your eyes, and especially when you don't need to. When you know that you won't be bothered by brothers or legal guardians or meals, and I had to admit that so far, that was my favorite part about college. The lack of nagging. I didn't even realize how much shit I used get from other people every day until I finally stopped getting it. And it made me want to take back my earlier statements on how sleep was the best feeling in the world.

I pulled my covers over my body, excepting my head. Gabe used to call me a caterpillar, because of the way I would sleep with multiple blankets covering me like a cocoon. And the way I would curl up into a ball and wrap my arms around my shoulders to absorb as much heat as possible.

I sighed and rolled over. I needed to stop thinking about my past. Gabe wasn't here, and neither were his nicknames. I don't know why I kept referencing him then, but it's like everything reminded me of something he'd said, and then that reminded me of something else. It was a nostalgic chain, and it needed to stop.

So I let my mind drift to new experiences. Charlie and Kevin showed me an episode of some Japanese show after first period. Something about an editor guy who had a crush back in high school and his crush ends up being his boss. Funny, I wanted to be an editor too. If only love worked the way it did on TV. Japanese or otherwise. 

Then I thought about Dean. What if he was my number one first crush, or whatever that show was called? What if I ended up falling in love with him all over again? That would end badly. I barely knew Sam, how could I possibly explain that I was in love with his brother? I mean, I had heard Dean mention a younger sibling when we were kids, but that was only a few times and he'd never even told me his name.

Maybe I'm over-thinking this. I mean, what were the odds that I'd ever even see Dean here? He's not a student. I don't even think he lives nearby. It probably wouldn't end up being a big issue anyway. I'd find a new crush just as easily as I'd found him.

Although, I hadn't been able to find a new crush ever since then...

But that didn't mean anything. I hadn't even met another gay guy before. But then again, who's to say that Dean's gay? Or was... could be...?

Ugh, I needed to stop. All this boy drama was disrupting my sacred nap time. Just sleep. It's really not that hard. Just...

Sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: If you were wondering, yes, the yaoi that Charlie and Kevin showed Cas was in fact world's greatest first love (sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi) because I recently started re watching it and I realized how similar Cas's and Onodera's situations are. Kind of. 
> 
> Eh. Pardon my fangirliness. I'm just weaboo trash with no place in this world. Sigh.


End file.
